


Broken

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Violence, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-06-23
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master (Simm) tortures the Doctor (Tennant), and forces Jack and Martha and Donna to watch. Then the Master leaves. The Doctor's injuries are terrible, and the Master has made it so that he can never regenerate again; if the Doctor dies, he is dead. Jack and Martha and Donna are faced with a terrible choice: even if they treat the Doctor's injuries, the Doctor only has a small chance of survival. But if they do treat the injuries, they will cause the Doctor even more pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> The Master had a Plan B during the year that never was. He took a lot of Torchwood's alien technology and rigged the Valiant so he could escape on it if he needed to, and the Doctor wouldn't be able to track him down. At the end of "The Last of the Time Lords" the Doctor and the earth were restored, but the Master did escape with the Valiant. The Doctor tried to find him, but couldn't. The 4th season happened as on screen, while the Master waited and plotted his revenge on the Doctor.
> 
> When the Doctor, Donna, and Martha return to earth at the end of "The Doctor's Daughter" the Master is waiting for them; he kidnaps the Doctor and disappears. Donna and Martha find Jack and the three of them set about trying to find and rescue the Doctor. Before they get very far, though, they too are kidnapped and teleported to the Valiant. The Master wants to make them watch while he tortures the Doctor.

There was a flash of blinding light, and they were all on the floor, gasping, before they realized that the Torchwood Hub was gone. They were in some sort of holding cell. And there, on the other side of the bars, grinning, was the Master.

"Welcome to the Valiant," he said.

"Where is the Doctor?" Jack asked.

The Master smiled. "All in good time. I want to make sure that you fully understand the situation before you see him."

"What have you done to him?" Jack asked.

The Master looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Oh, I am so looking forward to showing you. But first, as I said, I want to explain everything. In detail. Perhaps you'd like to sit down? Oh, wait, there aren't any chairs in that cell. Well, I'll sit." He snapped his fingers and two guards appeared immediately with an easy chair. The Master sat, put his feet up, and called for a drink, which was brought immediately. "They're the human guards from the Valiant," he explained, "But I did a bit of tweaking, with their minds. They worship me, as they should - and they do exactly as I say." He grinned. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. The Doctor."

"What. Have. You. Done. To. Him." Jack hissed.

"My dear Jack, you are an impatient boy. I, on the other hand, am a Time Lord. And what I wanted most with the Doctor was - " he snapped his fingers - "Time!"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Oh, it is very simple. For you, it has been only a few days since the Doctor was kidnapped. But I've done a bit of...manipulation. For the Doctor (and for me), it has been ten years."

Jack knew that their audible gasps of horror must be very pleasing to the Master.

"Ah, yes. Ten years. A bit more explanation is due, I think, don't you? I've been torturing him, of course. But I didn't want him to regenerate - the body he's in now is just too pretty. Especially when he's in pain. He's just gorgeous. Plus, there's an old method used on Gallifrey to torture a Time Lord. Very simple, really. Old device, thought lost, I found it. It sucks all the regenerative energy out of a Time Lord, so his captor has all that in his power."

The Master was practically beside himself with glee as he described it. "You see, I took all the dear Doctor's regenerative energy. I have it. It's mine. I can use it as I will. I put a lock on it so that he will never actually regenerate again. Ever."

That sank in slowly. The Doctor would never regenerate again. He was stuck in this form.

"But," the Master continued, "I can still use the energy to heal specific injuries. So, I torture him to death. Then I heal him. Then I torture him to death again. Then I heal him again. It's such fun!!!"

Jack looked at the stricken faces of Donna and Martha, and knew that the Master was getting exactly what he wanted.

"Alas," the Master continued, "the energy isn't renewable. I can only heal fatal injuries a few more times. Then the Doctor's regenerative energy will be gone forever. All used up." He sighed dramatically. "And really, what's the fun if I can't go all the way? I've been at this for ten years. It's getting a little dull. Besides, I know that you lot have UNIT and Torchwood looking for me, and I prefer to make my escape while I can. I have a universe to conquer. So…"

He smiled at each one of them in turn.

"Here's the plan. I'll torture the Doctor to death. Again. And you will watch. Then I'll heal him again. Then I'll torture him a bit more, but not quite to death, alas. Then…I've got an old Time Lord method of slow execution. It's a poison. Excruciating. I'll inject the Doctor with it. There is an antidote, but the antidote is excruciating too.

"Then, I'll leave. And you lot will have a choice. A lovely choice. You'll be on your own here on the Valiant, with weeks or months before UNIT and Torchwood rescue you. Between his injuries and the poison, the Doctor will be dying in agony. He will never regenerate again. If he dies, he will be dead. You **might** be able to save him…but only by doing what will feel to him like torture. Exactly like torture. You see…" the Master winked conspiratorially, "I thought the irony of a man who calls himself the Doctor being terrified of doctors was just too delicious to pass up. So I've made sure he's come to associate all…medical care…with torture. I've done surgery with no anesthesia…"

"Monster!" Martha screamed.

"Quite, my dear," the Master replied. "You might wish to know that your darling Doctor has a particular terror of needles. You see, I've used them often with him, in rather...unpleasant ways. But if you wish to **try** to save his life, let's just say…you're going to have to use a lot of needles. And did I mention? I'm leaving you with some medical equipment - though it's a bit...primitive, even by your standards. But..." The Master smiled again. "No painkillers."

He let that sink in. "Now," the Master explained. "We're going to another room. There's a glass wall dividing it in half. You'll be on one side, the Doctor on the other. You'll be able to see and hear everything that happens to the Doctor – he'll be less than two meters away from you – but he won't be able to hear or see you. Not that he would understand if he could. You see…" he looked at Jack, "You know what it is to be tortured to death. But imagine if that pain never stopped. For ten years. Imagine if it just went on and on.

"I've given him drugs to amplify both pain and fear. He's starving, too. I don't feed him, except every once in a while when I force a feeding tube through his nose and down to his stomach, to give him barely enough nourishment to keep him alive."

The Master smiled. "The Doctor was so very, very brave at first. It was truly touching. So very brave. It took me six years to break him. But he broke, of course, in the end. He broke utterly and completely.

"The Doctor isn't capable of courage anymore. He's not capable of rational thought. He's not capable of anything except pain and fear and the desperate desire for oblivion. It's been about three years now since he's said any words except begging me to stop and begging me to kill him." The Master laughed. "Ironic, considering how he used to jabber. He's not capable of complex thought anymore. Keep that in mind, when you're deciding whether to try to save his life. Even if you can save his body, his mind may never recover."

The Master grinned again. "Anyway, you'll be able to see and hear clearly. That's what matters, isn't it? I want you to see EVERYTHING."

A moment later they'd been teleported. And then they all stood frozen, because right there, on the other side of the glass, was the Doctor.

The room had a high ceiling and the Doctor was hanging from it, hanging by his wrists from chains. His feet were more than a meter off the floor. He was naked. He had always been thin, but now he was skin and bones. He was covered in bruises, burns, welts, open wounds. He had been castrated. He was covered in blood. His brown hair was caked with blood. Most of his bones were broken, and many were shattered. He was unconscious.


	2. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has EXTREMELY graphic torture. (I needed to show why the Doctor is so broken, even though he is a Time Lord: he's been going through this for ten years, and there's a limit to how much pain even a Time Lord can take.)

Jack, Martha, and Donna stood there, stunned in horror at the sight of the Doctor.

The Master strode into the room on the other side of the glass, followed by guards.

"Wake him up!" the Master ordered. The guards took a large hypodermic needle and pushed it into the Doctor's neck. His body jerked and his eyes shuddered open, but remained unfocused. He moaned weakly.

The guards brought in a steel rod. They raised it.

"No!" Donna screamed.

The steel rod smashed down across the Doctor's body.

The Doctor's cry was so weak it was barely audible.

The Master frowned. "I want to hear him scream," he said. He sighed. "Well, we'll have to do a bit of healing first. Cut him down!" The Doctor was dropped to the floor with a sickening crunch.

A stretcher was brought in and the Doctor was lifted onto it, roughly. He struggled weakly as they forced tubes and needles into him. Only after they had treated his injuries with incredibly painful medical procedures and no painkillers did the Master use the regenerative energy to fully heal him.

The Doctor was dropped back onto the floor. His injuries were gone, and his genitals restored, but he was weak and exhausted. He lay on the floor not moving, his eyes closed.

The Master knelt down next to him. "Well, Doctor," he asked, "How do you feel?" The Doctor didn't respond.

The Master grabbed him by the shoulders. The Doctor struggled weakly. The Master rolled him onto his back and slapped him, hard, across the face. The Doctor whimpered. "Answer me!" the Master ordered.

The Doctor started to cry. "Please," he begged. "Please, no more. Please, kill me. I can't take anymore. Please, kill me. Please."

The Master laughed. "You know what comes next."

The Doctor was sobbing. "No, please!"

The Master took a collar and put it around the Doctor's neck. Then he took out a control pad and touched a button. The Doctor screamed.

The Master turned towards Jack and Donna and Martha behind the glass, and explained, "It's a nerve stimulator. It causes far more excruciating pain than any physical injury ever could. It forces every nerve cell in the body to send messages of the most extreme pain possible to the brain. And," the Master smiled, "It prevents the subject from losing consciousness."

The Master pressed the button again and again. The Doctor screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. He struggled wildly, clawing at the floor.

When the Master released the button the Doctor was limp and gasping. "Please," he begged, his voice weak and raw from screaming, "Please no more. Please no more." The Master smiled and pressed the button again and the Doctor's screams tore through the air. He choked and retched and struggled and screamed and screamed and screamed.

The Master tired of the game. He called the guards, and they brought out a table with restraints, and lifted the sobbing Doctor onto it, and tied him down on his back with his legs in the air, spread wide.

The Master attached wires to the Doctor's genitals and applied electric shocks. The Doctor screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and begged for mercy and screamed more.

The Master took a bamboo cane and a wooden stick and a leather whip and beat the Doctor directly on his genitals. The Doctor screamed and screamed and screamed.

The Master brought out a red hot poker. He held it close enough to the Doctor's genitals so the Doctor could feel the heat, then pulled it away, then held it close again, then pulled it away again. The Doctor struggled frantically. "Please, no, please, no, please, no!" His last "NO!" turned into a tearing scream of agony as the poker finally made contact, and the Master burned his genitals.

The Master looked at him sympathetically. "I'd better take that collar off," he said. "It keeps you from passing out, and with what I'm about to do, if you can't pass out, your hearts might stop from the pain, and we can't have that, can we?" He took the collar off.

Then the Master took out a knife, and began cutting. He did it slowly, cutting off a bit of the Doctor's genitals, then using hot pokers to cauterize the wounds, then cutting more.

The Doctor lost consciousness over and over and over again. Each time the Master waited a bit, then roused him with a stimulant injected with a large hypodermic needle, then continued cutting and burning, until there was nothing left of the Doctor's genitals.

Then another table was brought out, and the Doctor was tied face down, bent at the waist, his torso strapped to the table and his legs spread wide and tied to the legs of the table, so his buttocks were the perfect target. The Master whipped the Doctor's buttocks with the cane and the stick and the whip until blood poured down his legs.

Then the Master dropped the Doctor onto the floor again, and told him to kneel. The Doctor was so weak he couldn't. The Master back-handed him across the face. The Doctor struggled and struggled and finally managed to get onto his knees.

Then the Master made the Doctor give him a blowjob. "Better be good, or you know what happens," he warned.

Jack realized with horror that this wasn't the first time. The Doctor had clearly been trained, and even in his agony he tried, desperately, to please the Master.

Afterwards, the Master looked down at the Doctor, "Not too bad, but not your best," he declared. "You know what that means."

What happened next would be burned into Jack's brain for however many billions of years he lived. A keening wail erupted from the Doctor's lips and he prostrated himself before the Master, begging, "Please, no, please, no, please, let me try again, please, I'm sorry, please, forgive me, please, anything but that, anything, please!"

The Master pushed him away and called for the guards. They hauled the frantically struggling Doctor over to the table that gave the Master such perfect access to his buttocks, tied him down again, bent at the waist, his legs spread wide and tied to the table legs, his torso strapped to the table.

The Doctor was hysterical with terror, sobbing and gibbering and babbling, "Please, no, please, no, please, no, please no!"

The guards brought another red-hot poker, and the Master took it. He showed it to the Doctor.

"Please, no, please, no, please, no, please, no, please, no!" the Doctor begged. The Doctor's last "NO!" turned into a terrible scream of agony as the Master began forcing the red-hot poker into his anus.

The Doctor's screams tore through the air.

The Master forced the poker further and further into the Doctor's body. Blood began to pour from the Doctor's nose and mouth and he was no longer able to scream. The poker was so deeply into his body that it had hit his lungs.

The gurgling choking sound the Doctor made was worse than screaming.

The Master pulled the poker out. Some of the Doctor's intestines were pulled out with it.

The Doctor convulsed, and then lay still.

The Master checked to see if his hearts were beating. They weren't. The Master used more of the regenerative energy to revive the Doctor, and heal him, and restore his genitals.

And then the Master used the nerve stimulator again, and he kept it on for over half an hour, and the Doctor screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. And in his frantic struggles the Doctor chewed his own lips and tongue.

And then the Master strung the Doctor from the ceiling by his wrists again, and beat him.

He used the steel rod first, smashing the rod hundreds of times over the Doctor's body, breaking bones.

Then he used a metal whip, tearing off strips of the Doctor's flesh.

Then the Master dropped the Doctor to the ground again. And then he raped him.

The Doctor was too weak to struggle or scream.

The Doctor lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. His body shuddered, and then once more he lay still.

And then the Master used the very last of the regenerative energy to revive and heal the Doctor one last time.


	3. Injuries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also has graphic torture.

The Doctor lay gasping on the floor, alive, his whole body healed.

He cowered in abject terror when the Master approached him.

The Master tortured the Doctor some more. He was more careful now, because the regenerative energy was gone and he didn't want to kill the Doctor. He wanted the Doctor to have life-threatening injuries, but a chance of survival, so that Jack and Martha and Donna would have a terrible choice: to inflict more pain while trying to save him, though they might fail and he might die anyway, or to end his pain with a quick death.

The Master hung the Doctor from the ceiling and hit him with the steel rod, breaking bones.

The Master took a gun and casually shot the Doctor four times, putting a bullet into each of his arms and each of his legs.

The Master beat the Doctor unconscious, over and over and over again.

The Master dropped the Doctor to the floor and used the steel rod to smash the bones of both the Doctor's shins.

The Master raped the Doctor again.

The Doctor cringed and cowered and pleaded and struggled and sobbed and screamed and cried and whimpered and moaned and gasped and choked and retched and writhed.

The Doctor lost consciousness over and over and over again, but the Master kept on waking him up again for more torture.

Finally the Master injected the Doctor with the poison. The Doctor convulsed, struggled, writhing, gasping.

The Master turned to Jack and Donna and Martha. "Well, I must be going now." He looked down at the broken body at his feet, and kicked the Doctor, hard. The Doctor's body jerked and he cried out weakly.

The Master smiled, and motioned to the guards. Several of them came over and picked the Doctor up, roughly, and carried him from the room.

The Master explained, "They're taking him back to the holding cell where you were when you first arrived on board. Once they've dropped him in there and the cell doors are locked, I will transport you back there. Then, I'm leaving. For the next two hours you'll be trapped with him in the holding cell, with no medical equipment.

"When I've been gone two hours, the doors will unlock, and you'll have full run of the ship. I'm taking my guards with me, so you'll be alone on the Valiant. You have a year's worth of life support and supplies, and I'm sure UNIT and Torchwood will rescue you by then.

"If the Doctor is still alive after that two hours in the holding cell - which he may not be - you'll have a choice.

"The Doctor is dying in agony. If you do nothing, he'll die, horribly. And once he is dead he will stay dead. He can never regenerate again.

"So, you can let him die in agony. Or, you can treat his injuries and give him the antidote to the poison. But there are no guarantees. His injuries are severe. Even if you do treat his injuries and give him the antidote to the poison, he'll probably die anyway, and you'll have done nothing but cause him more pain. If you do nothing there's a 100% chance he'll die; if you treat his injuries and give him the antidote, he has..." the Master paused for dramatic effect, "maybe a 1 in 4 chance. 25% he'll survive, 75% he'll die no matter what you do.

"But," the Master continued with a grin, "if you decide to try and save him, remember this. You have no painkillers. He's known nothing but pain for ten years, and he won't recognize you. He won't know anything other than that you're inflicting more pain on him. He'll think you're torturing him. He'll beg you to stop. He'll beg you to kill him.

"Of course, you could do the merciful thing and simply kill him quickly.

"If you do, somehow, manage to save him, he could live for another hundred years. But of course, you probably won't be able to. You'll try, and cause him more pain, and fail.

"Oh, and did I mention that the antidote requires that you give him an excruciatingly painful injection every day for the next 3 months? Miss even one, and the poison will kill him. Horribly. That is, as I said, if his injuries don't kill him. Which they probably will.

"The medical bay, if you care to know, is just down the hall from the holding cell. You'll find the antidote to the poison there."

The Master smiled. "So, you have a choice. You can try to save him, knowing that your efforts will cause him more pain and will probably be futile. Or you can kill him and end his suffering. Up to you!"

The Master grinned, and waved. "Bye-bye!" And then he, and the guards, were gone.

There was another flash of light, and they found themselves in the holding cell. And there, at their feet, was the dying Doctor.


	4. Coma

The Doctor lay crumpled on the floor, his limbs splayed at odd angles. His skin was greyish, in shocking contrast to the blood flowing from his wounds. His lips were bluish. He seemed completely lifeless.

They knelt at his side. "Doctor?" Donna said softly. The Doctor did not respond.

Martha felt for his pulses. The Doctor flinched at the touch. His eyes fluttered open and he moaned softly.

Donna spoke gently and quietly to the Doctor. "Doctor, it's Donna, and Martha, and Jack. We're here. You're safe now. It's over. You're safe now. It's alright. It's alright."

The Doctor gave no sign of recognition. His eyes were dull, and did not seem to see.

The Doctor was too weak to struggle as Martha examined him, but his body twitched and trembled. His lips moved but no sound came out.

"Martha?" Jack asked.

"He's in deep shock. He's lost a lot of blood. Only one of his hearts is beating," Martha replied. "I need medical equipment."

Jack went to the doors of the holding cell and pushed and shook them with all his strength, but it was futile; they were trapped.

"Do you think those doors will unlock in two hours like the Master said?" Martha asked.

"I don't know," Jack responded. "I don't know if the Master was telling the truth about any of it. But I think we need to decide now what we're going to do if the doors do unlock."

"What do you mean?" Martha asked sharply.

"Maybe," Jack paused, "maybe we should...let him go."

"No."

"Donna, what do you think?" Jack asked.

Donna was sitting by the Doctor's head. She had never stopped speaking softly and gently to him, telling over and over again that it was alright, he was safe now. She looked up at Jack, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know," she said. She turned back to the Doctor, and began talking to him again, reassuring him.

"I am going to do everything I can," Martha said.

"Even when 'everything you can' will hurt him horribly?"

"Jack, I can't give up on him when he still might have a chance!"

A few minutes later, the Doctor stopped breathing. Then, the one heart that was still beating stopped. Martha started CPR.

"Martha-" Jack said.

"I've done CPR on him before. Several times," Martha said between breaths. "Help, or be quiet."

Jack helped. So did Donna.

They had to do CPR twice more before the doors finally unlocked two hours later, and each time it took longer to revive the Doctor. Each time Jack started to argue, and Martha silenced him.

When the doors finally unlocked, they found the medical bay. The Master had called it "primitive, even by your standards" and they found that it was indeed ill-equipped.

They got a stretcher and brought it back to the cell. When they moved the Doctor onto it, his one beating heart stopped again, and Martha did CPR again while Jack and Donna wheeled it to the medical bay.

When they got to the medical bay Martha worked quickly, and told Jack and Donna what to do. They followed her orders; it was clear that no discussion could take place until the Doctor was stabilized.

Martha was hampered by the lack of equipment; the Doctor needed to be intubated, but they didn't have the equipment. All they had was an oxygen mask. They set up the oxygen and started an IV.

Only the Doctor's left heart was beating — they'd never managed to get the right one going — but it was beating. He was unconscious, his eyes closed, nose and mouth covered by the oxygen mask.

The Master had left the antidote for the poison in plain view; he'd clearly wanted them to find it.

"Martha – " Jack began again.

"Better to do it now, while he's unconscious," Martha said.

"What about removing the bullets? Sewing up his wounds? Setting the broken bones?" A look around the medical bay had confirmed that the Master had indeed left them no painkillers.

"I'll do as much as I can while he's unconscious," Martha said.

"How much – how much did he feel, of what we…just did?" Donna asked, her voice trembling.

"I don't know," Martha said.

"Martha, what are his chances?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Martha said. "Even with just his injuries…we don't have the equipment we need. He needs to be intubated, but we don't have the equipment. He needs a blood transfusion — the TARDIS could manufacture artificial blood for him, but we don't have the TARDIS. But…if it were just his injuries, he would still have a chance, even with just the IV and oxygen. But I don't know what the poison is doing to him."

Jack took a deep breath. "We don't know if the Master was telling the truth about the poison," he said, "I can't believe he'd let the Doctor live. Maybe the poison will kill him no matter what we do, and the Master was just trying to trick us into prolonging his suffering."

"We won't know for certain until I can analyze the poison and the antidote," Martha said. "It will take time."

"We could end his suffering now," Jack said.

"You want to kill him?"

"I don't **want** to do anything, but maybe it would be the most merciful thing –"

"No!"

"Martha, look beyond your medical training for a minute and face facts!"

"I **am** facing facts. He may have a chance. **You're** projecting your own fear of suffering and not being able to die!"

"Oi! You two!" Donna interrupted.

Martha and Jack looked at her.

"**I** am his current traveling companion," Donna said. "I think that makes me the closest he has to next-of-kin. So. **I'm** deciding. We'll do everything we can while he's unconscious. If he wakes up, we'll reassess. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said.

"Martha, give him the antidote to the poison. Now."

Martha injected the antidote. The Doctor did not respond at all.

Martha examined him. "He's gone into a coma," she said.

"Well then, we'll get those bullets out and set his broken bones," Donna said. "Move!"

They moved.

*

A few hours later, the bullets were removed, wounds sewn and bandaged, broken bones set. To their relief, the Doctor did not regain consciousness during these procedures.

But the relief was brief, because the Doctor remained in a deep coma for five days.

Martha and Donna and Jack rotated nursing duties. Someone had to be with the Doctor at all times, of course, but they all needed rest.

They explored the Valiant, and they found that the Master had been telling the truth: they had food and supplies to last at least a year. Jack tried to find a way to send a message to Earth, but it seemed that the Master had successfully created some kind of barrier around them. It was impossible to tell where they were, let alone communicate with the outside. They were trapped. All they could do was trust that Torchwood and UNIT would find them in time.

Since they would obviously be on the Valiant for a long time, they each chose a cabin, and tried to settle in.

Martha spent nearly every waking moment that she was not with the Doctor in the medical bay laboratory, analyzing the poison and the antidote. She grew increasingly worried as the days went by. The Doctor's injuries were not healing as they should. Her analysis of the poison revealed why: the poison prevented healing. She gave the Doctor the daily injections of the antidote, but it didn't seem to help at all. She continued her research, and discovered that the poison and antidote were in a delicate balance in the Doctor's body. The antidote had to be slowly built up and it would be weeks before it would make any difference, but giving more than the prescribed dose of the antidote would actually make the poison more powerful.

The Doctor was completely unresponsive. He was barely alive. He looked dead.

At least, they all thought, he didn't appear to be suffering.

But that changed on the 6th day.


	5. Agony

Martha explained to Jack and Donna what her research had revealed: the poison worked in five stages. First, the poison worked its way through a Time Lord's bloodstream damaging every cell it touched. Second, when the poison got to the brain it caused brain damaging, putting the victim into a deep coma for about 5 days. The victim would then slowly come out of the coma, but remain brain damaged. Third, the poison slowed the healing of injuries. Fourth, after about six weeks the poison would destroy the victim's immune system and the victim would become extremely ill. Fifth, after about three months the poison would become a substance like a powerful acid, once again work its way through the victim's blood stream, burning every cell in the victim's body and causing the victim to die in unimaginable agony.

All of the poison's effects could potentially be reversed by the antidote, but there was no guarantee. Time Lords had created the poison; Time Lords had created the antidote, and there was a lot that Martha didn't know. One thing was clear, though: the antidote itself was excruciating. The antidote was highly viscous. It had to be injected with a large hypodermic needle plunged deep into the patient's body. Because the substance was so thick, it took nearly five excruciating minutes to empty the syringe. Then followed an hour of excruciating pain; the antidote had been designed to cause agony. For about an hour after every injection, as the antidote traveled through the bloodstream, it felt as though every cell in the patient's body were being burned and cut at the same time. If you were lucky, the patient might eventually pass out from the pain.

*

The first sign that the Doctor's coma was lightening was that he began reacting to the injections of the antidote. With most of his bones broken he couldn't move much, but his muscles twitched and jerked.

Over the next few days his pain became more and more obvious. The pain from the Doctor's injuries and from the poison itself was extreme. His body shuddered and trembled. He began to moan; the sound was muffled by the oxygen mask, but it was clear that the Doctor was in agony.

A few days later he opened his eyes for the first time. They talked to him, reassured him, told him he was safe, but there was no recognition or understanding in his eyes, only pain and fear.

The Doctor lapsed in and out of consciousness. When he was unconscious he seemed peaceful, but when he was conscious he whimpered and moaned.

*

The Doctor's suffering was terrible, and everything they did to help him heal caused more pain. The slightest touch was agony to him, and they had to touch him all the time. Adjusting IVs and catheters and his feeding tube, examining him, taking blood samples, keeping his wounds clean and bandaged – everything they did was excruciating to him.

But it was the injections of the antidote that were the worst. The Doctor usually lost consciousness about twenty minutes after the antidote was injected, but it was a terrible twenty minutes.

The Doctor was not only in agony; he was terrified. He was terrified of touch, terrified of everything they did to him. Most of all, the Doctor was terrified of the daily injections of the antidote.

The Doctor looked like a wild animal caught in trap. His body trembled and shook with fear. His eyes were desperate and terrified.

They spoke to him gently and reassuringly, but he didn't seem to understand anything they said. Martha thought that the brain damage from the poison might have affected the Doctor's ability to understand language. The antidote would - probably - reverse that, eventually. But for now the Doctor was trapped in uncomprehending agony and terror.

*

But the antidote did seem to be working; the Doctor's injuries were healing very slowly, but they were healing. The IV and feeding tube were giving him the nutrition he'd been deprived of for so long. Gradually, the Doctor became stronger.

As the Doctor became stronger, though, he started to struggle, and they started having to hold him still, first just for the injections of the antidote, then for every procedure and every examination.

It wound up being Jack who had to hold the Doctor still for procedures. Donna held the Doctor's hand, Martha did whatever had to be done, and Jack held the Doctor down.

*

It was Donna who brought up the question of whether they were doing the right thing. She asked Martha what the Doctor's chances, were, now, and Martha admitted that she didn't know: the antidote seemed to be working, the Doctor's injuries were healing, but the fourth and fifth stages of the poison hadn't begun, and they might kill the Doctor despite their best efforts. And even if the poison didn't kill the Doctor, there was no guarantee that the brain damage would be completely reversed.

"But there is a chance," Donna asked, "that he'll recover completely?"

"There's a lot I don't know," Martha said, "but from all the evidence, it seems like there's a good chance."

"What's a good chance?" Jack asked.

"Maybe 50%," Martha said.

"That means there's also a 50% chance that we're doing this to him for nothing," Jack said.

"Yes," Martha agreed.

"But..." Donna persisted, "there's a 50% chance that a year from now the Doctor will have recovered completely and be traveling in the TARDIS again?"

"50% is a guess," Martha said, "but it's possible."

Donna looked at the Doctor. He was unconscious again. He looked so small and fragile on the hospital bed. His face was covered by the oxygen mask, tubes and needles were going into his body everywhere. He was covered in bandages, his broken bones in plaster casts.

He seemed peaceful during the blessed periods of unconsciousness, but his body never stopped trembling, and he would inevitably awaken again to agony and terror.

Donna's voice shook as she said, "I don't think we can give up...if he has a chance."

*

The Doctor continued to improve, slowly. When his breathing got better Martha switched him from the oxygen mask to a nasal cannula, hoping that having the mask off his face would ease his fear. It didn't seem to help.

With nasal prongs for oxygen instead of the mask, the Doctor's moans weren't muffled. They talked to him gently, reassuring him, but he still didn't seem to understand anything they said, and he didn't speak any words himself. The brain damage seemed to have destroyed the Doctor's ability to speak as well as to understand language. He just made wordless sounds of pain and fear.

As the Doctor continued to get stronger his moans and whimpers became cries and sometimes screams of agony.

*

Then one day, three weeks after he'd come out of the coma, as they were preparing the injection of the antidote and the Doctor was whimpering with fear, he said, clearly, "Please, no."

They spoke to him, gently and reassuringly, but he still didn't seem to understand anything they said. His eyes were filled with confusion as well as pain and fear. He flinched away from them, cringing.

Martha explained that heart-breaking as this was, it was still a very good sign. The Doctor was speaking, not just one word but two. The brain damage was reversing. The antidote was working.

But that didn't make it easier to hold him down and inject the antidote while the terrified, crying, struggling Doctor begged them, desperately, "Please, no, please, no, please, no!"

The Doctor screamed and screamed as the antidote was injected, the syringe so slowly forcing the excruciating substance through the needle and into the Doctor's body. When the injection was finally complete, the Doctor screamed and screamed as the excruciating antidote moved through his bloodstream. Finally, he passed out.

Martha had remained calm throughout the procedure. After the Doctor passed out, she went to the rubbish bin and vomited.

*

After that, the Doctor spoke more and more, but only the words he'd used to beg the Master to stop the torture: "Please, no more," and "Please, stop," and "I can't take anymore," and "Please kill me."

The Doctor still didn't seem to recognize them, or understand anything they said to him. To the Doctor, they were strangers speaking gibberish, torturing him as cruelly as the Master had, and the Doctor was as terrified of them as he had been of the Master.

Jack had to hold him down for every examination and every procedure. Holding him still wasn't difficult physically; he was still very weak and even his most frantic struggles were no match for Jack's strength. But it was terrible to hold the Doctor still while he cried and begged them to stop.

They all wondered if they were, in fact, with the very best of intentions, torturing him as cruelly as the Master had done.

*

One night when it was Jack's nursing shift, he sat next to the sleeping Doctor, holding his hand.

The Doctor looked so small. His too-thin body trembled. He moaned and whimpered in his sleep.

Then, the Doctor started to cry in his sleep, and he whimpered, "Please, no more, please, no more."

"Oh, Doctor," Jack whispered. "What are we doing to you?"


	6. Ten Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's point of view, over ten years.

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

One  
_He didn’t care about himself. He knew that as long as the Master was torturing him, he was leaving the rest of the universe alone. The Master was only hurting him, and he could bear the pain as long as he knew that everyone he loved was safe. The universe was safe. _

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Two  
_The pain was hard to bear, but he clung to the thought of Donna, happy and safe. Martha, happy and safe. Jack, happy and safe. Sarah Jane, happy and safe. Wilf, happy and safe. Mickey, happy and safe. Rose, happy and safe. He could bear this, for them. _

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Three  
_For the first time, he begged the Master to stop._

_He hated himself._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Four  
_For the first time, he obeyed the Master's commands._

_He hated himself._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Five  
_The universe was still out there, but his mind couldn’t touch it anymore. He couldn't feel it anymore. All he could feel was pain, and fear, and the desperate desire for oblivion._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Six  
_Donna. Martha. Jack. Sarah Jane. Wilf. Mickey. Rose. _

_He couldn’t remember anything else._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Seven  
_He couldn't remember their names anymore._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Eight  
_The Master called him Doctor. But he wasn’t the Doctor anymore. The Doctor loved people whose names he couldn't remember. The Doctor had courage and he couldn’t remember what courage was. The Doctor had ideas and he couldn’t remember what ideas were. The Doctor traveled in space and time, but space and time had shrunk for him, shrunk down to terror of the objects that inflicted agony and terror of the endless moments of unbearable pain. The Doctor was a person. He wasn’t a person, he was just a body, a screaming crying struggling begging broken terrified body in pain that never ended._

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Nine  
_There was pain, and there was the fear of more pain, and there was nothing else. Nothing else had ever existed. _

_There was no self for him to hate. _

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

Pain, and the fear of more pain.

*

Ten  
_There was no thought but, "Make it stop. Please make it stop. Please, no. No more. Please no more."_

_There was no self. _

_There was no mind. _

_There was no world. _

_There was nothing but pain and fear. _

*

There was nothing but pain. There never had been anything but pain. There never would be anything but pain.

*

Pain, and the fear of more pain.


End file.
